


Love is A Curious Thing

by Estelathan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Curious Loki, Gen, a walk down memory lane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:31:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3538052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estelathan/pseuds/Estelathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life pretending to be Odin Allfather is boring... When Loki finds himself struck by a curiosity streak he can't help but go exploring, but will what he finds be what he's looking for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is A Curious Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of Thor: The Dark World when Loki is pretending to be Odin in Asgard. Comments are appreciated!

It is only a handful of months into his reign of pretending to be Odin that Loki finds himself struck by a curiosity streak that he just can't shake. It's like an itch he can't scratch: overwhelming and annoying and growing worse the more he tries to ignore it.  
  
Which is how it's come to this: him sneaking about the former golden halls of the palace at night under a heavy glamour to make himself appear invisible. It's surprisingly easier than he would have thought. With his former family gone and a spell in place to make it appear that Odin is sleeping peacefully in his chambers, Loki finds himself free to explore much as he once did as a child.  
  
It's liberating at first. Under the glamour he can finally relax enough to be himself again, even if there's nobody to witness it. After pretending to be an old man for so long he feels free as a bird in his own skin. His soft clothes feel loose upon his skin and no matter that it happens every night, he still can't get over how much brighter the world appears, even in the dark, with two eyes instead of one. As himself he can run and jump and slither into even the narrowest corridors that the Allfather, guise or no, cannot fit. It's only fitting then that those are the places he chooses to explore first, slipping into every nook and cranny he comes across in his re-exploration.  
  
Loki, being Loki, however, finds that he just can't be satisfied with sneaking around in the dark. He lasts perhaps a week, tops, before the corridors become unappealing to him. There's just something missing that he can't let go of and for several more nights he searches in vain as to what it could be. He's about to give up on the whole enterprise when he finds himself standing in the halls outside his former chambers, staring dumbly at the door before him.  
  
For long, long moments he simply stares at the dark expanse of wood before age-old caution has him backing away, green eyes darting around warily. There's nothing to see. No guards, no servants, no one save himself. The halls are eerily quiet to which Loki is suddenly grateful for since he is sure that the pounding of his heart would have given him away, glamour notwithstanding. He's so caught up in his own racing thoughts that it takes a moment for the light bulb to finally click on in his head: Of course this area is abandoned, Loki has long been declared dead.  
  
A cold shudder runs through him at the thought of how very close he came to making that a reality. A sick feeling claws it's way up his throat and it isn't until he feels the cold press of a stone column behind him that he realizes he's been steadily backing away from the door. Fear grips him irrationally strong in its grasp and he just can't do it. The rational part of his mind knows it's just a door just as beyond are simply rooms yet they hold pieces of the past that Loki is just not ready to face. Before he can give any more thought to it he's turned and headed back down the corridor at a rapid pace.  
  
For the better part of two months he explores the rest of the palace and the surrounding grounds. He's careful to stay far away from his former chambers, the dungeons, Frigga's chambers and garden. . . any place that holds memories he's not ready to confront. He's being ridiculous and he knows it. After everything that's happened to him what possible harm could memories do to him that hadn't been done already?  
  
Still, it takes another few weeks of endless wandering to find himself outside his former chambers again, and a week more to get close enough to touch the door. Finally he can't stand it anymore.  He is still a prince of Asgard and he will sooner go willingly back to Midgard before he allows himself to be defeated by something as asinine as memory. "You are a fool," he hisses to himself in the silence of the hall before he pushes the door open. It's a surprise to find the door glides open effortlessly under his touch like he's been gone hours rather than years, but before Loki can change his mind about this whole idea he forces himself to slip inside the room.  
  
Spread out before him the chambers are cold, dark and echoing from every direction. It's disorienting and for a moment Loki finds himself lost in the darkness and time. His heart ramps up to a tempo in his chest as his anxiety starts to mount; he remember falling through endless darkness, remembers it pressing all around him. Outside the space of his head he can feel his lungs burn as he starts to suffocate once again. . .  
  
It isn't until a wheezing, rasping noise fills his ears that Loki comes back to himself with a start and realizes that he's gasping for air thanks to nothing more than his own hands clawing desperately at his throat. Abruptly he dropped his hands away, by turns horrified and humiliated by his ridiculous behavior.  
  
"This isn't the void!" He hisses into the silence of the rooms, partially to berate himself and partially for the echo the sounds cause. It does the trick- his voice echos like a gunshot against the stillness and grounds him in a way little else could. Within the suffocating depths of the void there was no echo no matter how loudly he screamed. Still it takes several more moments of standing there listening to the harsh sounds of his breath and the double-tap rhythm of his heart before Loki feels compelled to move once more.  
  
Once he does start moving forward again, Loki doesn't look back. The need, or whatever madness this is that drove him here, is burning in his chest against his fear, and it alone keeps his feet moving despite not knowing what it is he is actually looking for. He wanders along the edge of the room, gaze sharp in the dim light as he traces along the edges of his former furnishings with one hand. From room to room he wanders thus, the scent of dust and decay filling his nostrils as he walks. It's clear that nobody has been in these chambers for quite some time, and in a morbid way Loki finds it reassuring. While he had given little thought to his belongings in the years since he had last laid eyes upon them, it's gratifying to see they had not been destroyed as he'd once thought.  
  
Indeed it seems as if everything is as he left it. He comes across weapons- daggers, small knives and the like that he thought he'd never lay eyes on again, potion ingredients he no longer has use for, formal clothing he need never again wear. All of it and more he carefully picks up before setting them down again and moving on. Scrolls, pens, books, pillows upon his bed. . None of them quell the burning need within his chest and by the time he has picked his way to the last door in the rooms Loki can feel his frustration starting to boil over.  
  
He must truly be mad, it's the only explanation that makes sense in the face of the jumble of emotions swirling around in his head. Yet he's not about to leave a stone unturned, not after all the trouble that he's gone through to get here. A hand shoots out to grasp the handle of the door in front of him, and a deep breath later, he's opened it and moved inside. Once his personal storeroom, the bitter tang of long since stale potion ingredients waft up to greet him once he's fully inside. The stench has him curling his nose but it's quickly shoved to the back of his mind in light of what he finds upon his workbench.  
  
There, sitting upon the stained and notched surface of the table in all its curved horns and golden glory is his helm. For a moment all Loki can do is stand there and stand stupidly at the helmet. How could this be possible? The last he had laid eyes upon his helmet was that terrible day on the Bifrost. Even the one he had worn during his war on Midgard had been naught but a well crafted illusion.  
  
Finally he snaps out of his stupor and moves in closer, his eyes darting warily around the room as he does just in case all this is nothing more than an elaborate trap. Nothing happens. The helmet doesn't move nor disappear and nothing jumps out at him from the shadows.  
  
From up close the helmet isn't as golden as it appears. There are scuff marks, dings and dents, and a particularly lovely scorch mark thanks to his brother's blasted hammer.  It would almost be funny if the sight didn't make his stomach turn at the memory. It's something he would never admit out loud, but looking back on it with a clearer head he regrets his actions that terrible day.  
  
Since nothing has happened so far, and partially just to prove he isn't completely as mad as he feels, Loki reaches out to rest a hand along one gleaming horn. The instant his hand touches the metal the helmet shudders under his touch- a rippling shock wave of golden light and magic. What sorcery is this? He snatches his hand back as if burned and backpedals away from the table.  
Before his eyes the light from the helmet expands outward and elongates into a humanoid form. It shifts and twists before finally settling into a form and abruptly Loki feels as if all the oxygen has been violently sucked out of his chest. Standing before him is none other then Frigga herself, smiling gently. For the space of several sluggish beats of his heart Loki stands there dumbfounded, mouth open and working soundlessly as he tries to process the fact that Frigga is right there in front of him. Frigga, who died and is beloved of Valhalla now. "Mother..." He finally rasps, his voice high and thin compared to the roar that's growing in his ears.  
  
"My dear son," Frigga smiles sadly at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "I knew you would find your way here."  
  
His head is spinning so fast he doesn't know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up. Maybe do all three at once at the rate he is going and wouldn't that just be a fitting way for Frigga's monstrous son to greet his mother? That thought sobers him enough to wrest his breathing back under control, swallowing hard against the impending nausea rising in his throat. "Y-you're dead.."  He croaks, his mouth running off without his brain.  
  
Instead of getting offended as would be expected given his crass mouth Frigga's smile only deepened as she stepped closer to Loki. Her form shimmered as she moved, the edges flickering to compensate for the movement.  "I would never truly leave you Loki," She reached out as if she was going to touch him, but stopped short of actually doing so.  
  
She was an illusion. Sorrow burrowed its way back into his heart even as he mentally cursed himself for the slight. He should have known- Frigga herself could no more be here than he could reach Valhalla's gates. In a terrible, twisted way the knowledge helped. While it did nothing to ease the sharp edge of grief it became a focal point rather than what was before his eyes. Monster he was, Loki knew he had no right to look the true Frigga in the eyes. That didn't mean looking at the illusion was any easier. "Why have you come?" He asked, grateful at how steady his voice remained.  
  
The illusion of Frigga sighed softly, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness of the room. "To remind you that you are loved, Loki. When you fell and were lost I could not bare the thought that you thought yourself unloved by your family." He bared his teeth in a nasty parody of a smile. "You could not bare it? You lied to me my entire life! How was I supposed to bare it, huh?" He snarled, suddenly too angry to care about anything else. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?"  
  
"I wanted to tell you everyday," Frigga told him softly, her flickering hand held out towards him. "I never wanted what happened to have happened but Odin was insistent." The frustration was evident in her voice as she spoke. "You were my son from the first time I laid my eyes upon you and nothing will ever change that. Not even you Loki- no matter how you may renounce me I will always be your mother."  
  
How was that possible? How could she love a monster such as he? Loki destroyed everything touched! Wrapped in his thoughts and mind Loki hadn't even noticed that Frigga had moved until a pair of warm arms had slipped around him and pulled him close. Loki froze, his churning thoughts evaporating as he stiffened and turned to look Frigga in the eyes. "H-how?" He murmured, feeling his throat constrict as he unconsciously leaned further into her embrace. Ever since Frigga's death this was all he had ever wanted- to be held in her arms one more time, but this couldn't be real. Could it? "Shhh," She soothed, her hand a comforting weight against his back. "I'll always love you Loki, never doubt that." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and before Loki could blink she was gone.  
  
He started, looking around the room with wide eyes but just as before he was alone. When his eyes rested upon his helmet once again he knew it was over- where the metal had once glowed under the weight of magic it was now dull and battered as it always should have been. Disappointment, the old friend it was, filled Loki's heart as he backed away from the table. Now that she was gone regret welled up inside him. There were so many things he still wanted to say, so many more that he needed to apologize for. . . Yet instead of despair rising up Loki found he felt strangely disconnected. He wasn't content, no, but he wasn't filled with the same level of despair that had led to his past frantic actions.  
  
It was a nice change, Loki mused as he backed his way out of the storeroom and began heading back out of his chambers. He hadn't truly known what he was looking for when he went in there but to find a small measure of peace, it was entirely worth it. By the time he reached the main doors Loki was surprised to find a hint of a smile playing on his lips. It seemed that, after all, a little curiosity was not a bad thing.


End file.
